


He's Prettier in Person

by InspirationalStars



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Mild Sexual Content, not sure but i think Maia and Jace might be ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 16:30:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11406225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InspirationalStars/pseuds/InspirationalStars
Summary: She raises an eyebrow, takes the required steps to be in his personal space, “Something.” She repeats. “Why am I here Jace?” She asks, eyes digging into his as she waits and watches. Watches his pupils dilate. Watches his lips separate. Watches his tongue lick over his bottom lip. Waits for a sound, a word, some types of explanation to come out. Instead, he stands there looking at her like she's the eighth wonder to the world.“I like you.” He confess after a moment.





	He's Prettier in Person

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo this is my first JaceMaia fic. I plan to do more in the future. But only if you guys like it. This is before the Seelie Court travesty. Tbh this timeline is completely different after that 2x13. Also I was listening to Better by Banks for the first part of this fic and Neptune by Sleeping At Last if you want to get a better vibe for the writing. Also this is not beta. So try enjoy anyway.

In the back of a bar that goes by the name _ Hunter's Moon,  _ where the street lights flicker and it smells like the back end of a garbage truck most nights. There is a blonde shadow hunter with fingers as cold as winters in New York kissing its owner. His hands are on either side of her face, thumb caressing high cheekbones. Fingers hemming in around her neck like a chain link fence. He is pushing her jaw up and at a tilt towards his lips, with the palms of his hands. Capturing every inch of her mouth, every breath that escapes her  fanning across his lips in short huffs. His hands clutch to her face, like he's trying to stop her from going away. From going anywhere that isn't near him. A desperate need that for a moment like this isn't needed. A need for a different moment. For a different girl. A need that is meant for someone that isn't her. For someone that matters. A need of a lover, for a lover. But she is none of that, she doesn't want to be that, to become any of that for him.

 

For Jace Wayland or Lightwood or Herondale or whatever the hell he is going by now. She doesn't want that, never did, never gave them a chance to be thought about like that. But she does want him. Wants him the same way someone wants a tequila shot after finishing six cosmos. Wants him in the same way a blind man wants eye sight. In the same way a ghost wants to come back to life. She wants and wants and wants. She takes. 

 

She pushes him off and he stumbles into the alley wall behind them. Sharp breaths leaving him as his back collides with the old brick. He's breathless, chest rising and falling at an accelerated rate. Jace breathless for her after a touch of the lips, is almost as beautiful as toxic as addicting as his lust fill eyes are. How they darken as she closes the distance between them. Three full, quick, confident steps and she's in his space. Taking it over, like it was always hers to occupy.

 

It's not, it never was and yet, here she is, pushing her chest into his. Grabbing hand fulls of his shirt pulling, tugging, borderline ripping apart his shirt to push-up on her toes. Making her mouth meet his in a silent agreement. Swallowing down the gasp that leaves his mouth, suppressing the moan that wants to leave hers. Ignoring the way their teeth hit from her forceful impact. Ignoring the way she pushes into him, forcing herself to fit against him, like a jagged puzzle piece.

 

But, that has always been Maia. A physical energy, an energy that bustles with an obvious anger. An obvious fierceness. An energy that also hides vulnerability and sadness and lonesomeness. Maia, the jagged puzzle piece, the physical fatality. She knows this, has for a while now, she hasn’t fitted in for a very long time.

 

But then, Jace moves, adjusts to her body being on his. Her warmth invading his space and suddenly she isn't pushing anymore. More so squeezing into a tight place that was once closed due to non use. She fits against him like the first strike of a pick axe to an explorer of an undiscovered cave. Which is to say she represents an excitement, a nervousness, a challenge that he has never had.  Something so contrasting yet similar in many ways, it leaves him collapsing. It leaves him gasping prettily against the air when she pulls back. It leaves him chasing after something he wasn't sure wanted to be caught.

 

"This doesn't mean anything." She says, and at that moment she means it. She knows she wants to mean it for moments after this, too. Knows she wants this to be a one-time thing the same way she knows when it is about to rain. The same way she knows the pack would have her shunned if they found out. If this went any farther than it is going to go. Then, she is going to allow this to go.

 

So, she pushes him against the wall, watches the way he watches her with dark eyes and a smirk across his lips. Watches the way he's not actually paying attention to anything she's saying. His eyes are on her lips rather than her eyes and he's moving forward. His hands coming back to her face. Thumbs back on high cheekbones and palms pushing her mouth towards his. He kisses like he's in one of those romances movies, like the ones that slow down during an epic kiss, a  _ Dear John _ kind of movie. _ The Notebook _ kind of a movie. Or at least that's how he kisses her. 

 

It's stupid the way she has to push-up on the tips of her feet and grab onto his forearms to push them off of her. Pushing them above his head and against the brick wall. She told him to let them stay there by pulling up his shirt. Just above his nipples, before she is planting kisses along his skin. Letting her fingers explore the expanse of his body. A soldier's body, with broad shoulders and tight abdominal muscles. She counts them as kisses each one. Kissing over runes and scarred tissue from battles.

 

He pulls her up when she gets dangerously close to his belt buckle, but she unbuckles it before their lips touch. His tongue slides into her mouth and there is a moan that leaks from one of them. Maia knows it was her by the way, he smiles into her lips. The way he pushes against her just a bit harder, a little bit faster. The way he tries to suck her entire being out of her body.

 

She sits her leg upon his hip and lets him create goosebumps along her skin. Pulling her in closer by her waist so that her leg wraps around his. Let's his fingers walk along her calf muscle and the smooth skin of her thigh. Lets warming fingers slip under her tight skirt and feel the absent of her panties.

 

He strokes her bare hip like he's trying to start a fire, but all he has are the sticks.

 

"What are you waiting for." She whispers against his kiss swollen lips. Teeth biting at his bottom lip, eyes almost the color of the sky above them as she searches his face. There is a hunger in his eyes that makes her skin tingle. That has her heart pounding louder in her ears. Her teeth letting go of his bottom lip to bite her own when he slips two fingers into her.

 

There’s a match, a spark, and the fire starts. 

 

She opens her eyes only to see his watching her. Staring and taking in every gasp, every suppressed moan, every slight reaction of hers to him.The way he curls his fingers inside of her hitting the right spot , the way his thumb circles her clit , applying the right about of pressure. He watches her though all of this with hooded eyes and a  smirk she wants to wipe of his face. 

 

She lets  him finger fuck her in the alley of her club, suppressing moans against his cloth shoulder. Biting hard into his shoulder (knowing without a doubt it will leave teeth mark in his skin) when she comes. She jerks him off while the boy she wants sings and he comes in her hand while the girl he wants cheers along.

 

When it's over, she pulls her skirt down and goes to the bathroom to clean away what she can. She doesn't turn around to see if he left but she hears receding footsteps leave the alleyway.

 

<<<><><>>>

He shows up after hours every night after that for a month.  Some nights they talk. Most nights they fuck until the sunlight peeks through the bar curtains or he is called away to the institution.  Every night this gets more reckless.

<<<><><>>>

One month turns into two.

<<<><><>>>

Two into three. 

In the second month, she gives Jace her address. She lets him come over to shower after a mission. She lets him eat her food. Lets him watch her television. Lets him whisper lewd things into her skin as she rides him, creating claw marks into her headboard. She lets create bruises on her stomach, hips, and inner thighs. In the third month, she forgets that Simon and Clary's relationship is why they are together. She lets herself forget that their shared hatred for them is why she is allowed to feel this.

<<<><><>>>

Three into four.

Halfway through the third month she lets her guard down. Let's herself feel. Let's herself whisper things to him about her past life wrapped in his arms at dawn. In the fourth month, she allows him to pin her to the bed. Allows his fingers to intertwine with hers when he's deep inside her. Halfway through the fourth month, she remembers the type of relationship she's in.

<<<><><>>>

Near the end of her shift when she's turning off the blinking open display sign he shows up. Its nights later and he's standing under a broken street lamp across the street from the bar, but she knows it is him. She knows it's him by his stance alone, the way it expresses pure cockiness. The way he leans against the brick wall, hands crossed at his chest, feet apart like he is waiting on an inspection. She knows it's him because he's the only shadow hunter that would wait for her at three in the morning.

She knows, but pretends she does not. She continues to close up the bar, stacking chairs on tables, counting the cash to the registrar, turning off all the lights.

 

She takes her time.

 

When she steps outside to lock the front door he's waiting for her with crossed arms. He's leaning against the window display of the logo for the bar and his eyes are laser focused on her. If she had been anyone else that look alone would have unnerved her.

 

It would have left her feeling breathless, lawless, irresistible. A frightening mixes of emotion. Ghastly emotions that would have her questioning herself more than she already was. More so, then the night she kissed him back in that alleyway.

 

It was a bad choice, a stupid rash choice. But it happened and he's standing before her looking at her like she is the only thing that matters. The only thing he sees. She wants to roll her eyes, wants to tell him to redirect his eyes, his desire, his tunnel vision somewhere else. Somewhere else that isn't her. Somewhere else that would give him what he is looking for because she isn't it.

 

 

Instead, she glances at him out of the corner of her eye like an unwanted guest. A quick once over that starts at his boots to the undeniable caving in his eyes and a raised eyebrow.

"What? No leather jacket tonight?" She asks, as she checks to make sure the door is locked.

He is dressed in a dark red henley with the first button loose to show off his collarbone and a  peek of a rune. His pants are dark and tight, but not tight enough to give Magnus a run for his money.

"Didn't know you'd miss it so much." he says, pushing off of the wall and stepping closer to her.

She scoffs, turns, and starts walking to the subway station. "I don't."

 

"Where are you going?" he asks, falling in step alongside her. His hands are in his pockets and he looks so much like the bad boys she has read about in her books when she was younger. The same types of boys she would roll her eyes at  in college. The same types of boys her friends would lose their minds over. The same type of boy who meant her no good. She told herself she would never let that happen to her. She would spare herself the headache.

She looks over to the boy who is walking beside, her. He shines bright even under broken street lamps and a gloomy neighborhood. He illuminates everything she is trying to get rid of, to not insert into her life.

 

"Home. I'm exhausted, what do you want, Shadow hunter."

"Come eat with me." He says.

 

He says it like its such a casual thing to ask. Like something you ask a friend- _ hey I'm going to five guy you in _ \- and not something you ask a fuck buddy. Not something you ask of someone who let your fingers touch them intimately in back of bar in a dark alleyway.

 

"Why? Do you think you need to feed me before you fuck me?" She asks, taking the steps down the subway and onto the platform.

 

He stalls taken back by her brashness. "No." he says falling back in step with her. "I'm hungry, but if fucking me is what you want to do. You must know that feeding me is a requirement. This dick ain’t free."

 

Her eyes roll and her mouth lifts into a smirk, god he has to be one the corny boys she has ever met, but he makes her smile. He makes her laugh. He makes her feel lighter than she has ever felt before. It's so stupid, so  _ so _ stupid that she allowed him to affect her in this way. When had she turned  soft for Jace Herondale of all people.

 

"You can eat by yourself, Shadow hunter."

He nods, "I could, but where's the fun in that."

 

<<<><><>>>

He opens a door to a restaurant that is on the opposite side of the city. Its miles from where she lives, from where she could easily escape to if this turned out to be reckless. If sitting and eating with Jace Herondale got.....complicated.

 

This was a stupid idea. Such a stupid  _ what the fuck are you doing  _ idea.

 

It's a small place with low lighting and peeling plastic chairs. The floors are red and white checkered linoleum with long scratch marks. There is a scent that lingers around that Maia smelled blocks back. It smells like food of course, but there is something lingering under it. Something Maia hadn't felt since Luke, since she has been with Luke and his pack.

 

There are few people here, an elderly couple in the back and a woman who looks as tired as Maia feels. There's a waitress dressed in all white telling them to sit anywhere and she will be with them in a moment. It all feels....surreal. It reminds her those old black and white movies she saw in her art history class.

 

Jace moves besides her like he's being pulled by a string. All tense muscles and unsure footsteps, a look that doesn't fit him and one she doesn't want to see. She follows after him with measured footsteps and wary eyes. He walks to the back of the small venue, where the booths start to emerge and look worse than the peeling chairs. He turns, opens a door, and suddenly they are out on a terrace.

 

It's pitch black, but the first thing Maia notices is the fresh smell of the trees. A garden of hedges line around the balcony like a private fence. They are short enough to make the city lights a night light.

 

Maia can make out the silhouettes of furniture placed around the terrace. She counts seven tables with two chairs at each, each table has a rose as their centerpiece. Maia knows this because she can smell the distinct odor.

 

This is not what she was expecting when he said come eat. She's not sure what she was expecting ,but  _ this  _ was not it.

 

Jace turns on a light switch and the terrace lights up like fireworks on the fourth of July.

Stunning, that's the only word that Maia could come within the moment.

The lit terrace is stunning and Maia almost take a step forward. Almost allows herself to forget where she is and who she is with. Until her eyes find Jace leaning against a table. His eyes are on her, looking, staring, asking for something that Maia is not going to give him.

He opens his mouth to say something, but Maia doesn't hear it. She takes a step back, turns, and walks away. Walks out the door, backdown the hallway and back towards the peeling plastic chairs. Her footsteps are loud and combative as she speeds past the waitress in all white asking what's wrong.

This was already getting complicated and they hadn't ate yet. What the hell was wrong with this boy.

 

She knew this was a stupid idea.

 

She makes it as far as the front door, before Jace is speeding past her, blocking her exit.

"I thought you wanted to eat." He says breathless, pushing his hair out of his face.

Maia scoffs, looks him up and down, catches how the red in his shirt makes his eyes sparkle  and tells him, "Move."

"Don't tell me you're vegan." He says smirking at her as he takes a step forward.

She pushes past him with her shoulder and he lets her make it outside, before he comes rushing in front of her. Stopping her in her tracks, "What? Are you allergic to food now."

"No, bullshit."

"Bullshit?"

"Yes, bullshit."

"Which part?"

"All of it."

"Me trying to feed you is bullshit."

"No, you're making this more than what it is, is bullshit."

"I'm not."

"You are. And I thought we both knew what this was.” She says turning away from him, “Romantic dinners by city light is not what this is. It’s not what we are.” She explains.

“I’m aware of what we are.” He states, following behind her.  “We’ve been fucking all summer.”    He stops, “But it’s Autumn now.”  he declares like Maia couldn’t feel the difference in temperature. Like the changing leaves weren’t a give away.

 

She stops, turns to him, “And what does that mean?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Nothing.” he shrugs, taking a step forward inches away from her personal space. Eyes searching over her face like she's holding a secret he desperately wants to know. “Something.”

 

She raises an eyebrow, takes the required steps to be in his personal space, “Something.” She repeats. “Why am I here Jace?” She asks, eyes digging into his as she waits and watches. Watches his pupils dilate. Watches his lips separate. Watches his tongue lick over his bottom lip. Waits for a sound, a word, some types of explanation to come out. Instead, he stands there looking at her like she's the eighth wonder to the world.

 

“I like you.” He confess after a moment. “And you like me.” 

“And what makes you think that.” She asks, eyebrows raised to her hairline.

“Because you’re here.” he states. “When I know you would like nothing more than to be face down in your bed, snoring away. Because it’s been four months and I haven’t heard the word Simon come out of your mouth once.  Plus it was that one time you let me-”

She places her hand over his mouth before he could finish that sentence. “Shut up.”

 

She feels his smirk under her hand, “And how do I know you're over Clary.” She asks, removing her hand away from his mouth, making sure she catches every emotion on his face. “Am I supposed to accept what you're saying as the truth? Am I supposed to fall to my knees because you like me? Because-”

 

He kisses her mid sentence, and she's sure it's to shut her up, but she doesn't care. She couldn't care less that they are in the middle of the sidewalk in front of a restaurant at four in the morning. He still kisses her like he's in a Nicholas Sparks movie. It makes her stomach flutter and heart pound loudly in her ears. It makes her close her eyes on instinct to feel all this kisses has to offer.

 

When he pulls back, her eyes are still closed, “Because I'm here and you're enough.”

She opens her eyes and rolls them at him, god he has got to be one the corniest men she has ever met. He's also one of the prettiest and he is hers.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think. Comments and Kudos are appreciated and loved.


End file.
